


loveless

by atrophied (traintravks)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Boys In Love, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Miscommunication, Soulmates, Summer Love, ill keep tagging as i go along
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 09:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15838671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traintravks/pseuds/atrophied
Summary: simon is the sun. baz swears he was born to burn./ a rich kid pseudo "we were liars" summer emo angst so in love fic, basically an amalgamation of all the best things!(title inspired by loveless by la bouquet)





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to this super self-indulgent snowbaz fic!
> 
> this is an au of sorts very very loosely based off on e. lockharts "we were liars" (it's such a good book! i would highly recommend reading it) aka this is just inspired by mainly the setting and social class but we'll see as the story unravels.
> 
> thank you for giving this a chance.  
> feedback is much appreciated!
> 
> a x.

he is the depth of drowning, all long limbs and skin,skin,skin. he is sand and freckles and 4am sin.

they swim all night and suffocate secrets in the sand. daisy chains and long names and family affairs. they couldn’t care any less. they wouldn’t dare. 

baz mars simon’s skin and simon laughs and laughs and laughs. there are trees growing towards him for light, horses running in his veins, the sky in his eyes.

they tend to hold hands and forget the world, so fucking golden, so fucking bright, burning with all their might. 

they never stand a chance.


	2. ii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here it starts, feedback is much appreciated!

he’s penny’s friend and agatha’s past. he’s summer, where penny is autumn and agatha spring. baz is pretty sure winter is the only thing branded into his brain. “the seasons,” he proclaims. 

summer starts (simon starts) in june.

it’s a dreary day, too sun prone. penny drags him to a secluded corner of the old dock exclaiming there’s someone for him to meet and baz holds his tongue. his is winter, stubborn and wrung. agatha stares as simon shakes baz’ hand. he is langly limbs and hair spun out of silk, freckles and an unforgiving tongue.  
summer, all laid out to feast upon.

penny smiles all day and agatha slowly withers away. he doesn’t comprehend, simon stays. 

it starts and it ends all at once. agatha drifts off on her own most of these days and baz finds her in the attic of the oldest estate on the island, it’s been christened “the winnowing wind” for not being weather proof enough. she pretends to not be cold and there are wine bottles stashed everywhere. agatha’s reading all her old emo diaries from two summers ago again and baz waits,waits, waits, for the picture perfect frame to combust inside her, coating himself in flame retardant every day. penny pretends to not notice as she buries sardonic smiles in simons neck and reaches out for him carelessly. they’ve been friends since they were three so it makes sense to baz but agatha thinks they’re madly in love. baz pretends to not realise that simon spends most of his time staring at the sea and acknowledging baz himself than penny and agatha combined. he feels more hopeful than he can afford to be at this present time, and he can afford a lot. 

they don’t talk much but agatha avoids simon like the plague, so they end up being in each other’s company quite often these days when penny is keeping up the prodigy appearances for her family.

simon doesn’t say much yet he stares constantly and observes the world as though it’s his last chance to see beauty. at least that’s what baz tells himself instead of thinking about their hands bumping against each other and whether it’s possible to fall in love within two weeks at 17.

it always seems to get dark quickly but simon knocks on his window one-night exclaiming that he wants to go to the beach. baz is tired, it’s 2.33 in the morning but simon’s eyes are alight and he can’t find it within himself to disagree. he wears a large jumper and a pair of jeans, forgoing shoes for flip flops and grabs a beanie for simon so he doesn’t freeze. simon is surprised and doesn’t let go of his grip around baz’ wrist until they reach the sand and the sea. it’s warm on a summers night like this and as they sit on the sand, simon moves closer, resting his head on baz’ shoulder. 

“will i tell you about why agatha hates me” simon states dryly as though he’s talking about the weather in tenerife. baz stumbles, he never stumbles, unsure of the suitable register of speech. “if you’d like to salisbury” is what he determines to be the most suitable. 

“do you promise not to judge me depending on my stupidity?” simon asks. his eyes are sincere, he’s holding out a pinky finger and baz swears he can feel the stars at their feet. “agree” he replies “although you’ll have to do the same for me” he’s linking his own pinky with simon’s. he feels electricity, he feels free. simon gives him a sunshine smile and baz feels happy. 

simon is summer and has baz at his mercy.

“so” simon starts and he’s always the start, the middle, the end,end,end. 

“we were fifteen, you haven’t quite yet unlocked my tragic backstory.”simon says and baz snorts and simon punches his knee. they are so close, legs swaying in synchroncity,left,left,right,right, until simon starts playing with the bottom of baz’ jumper and baz forgets how to breathe. “so i’ll save the sordid details for later maybe?” he laughs and baz notices that he is drunk on the sea salt air, he wants to ask simon to stop. force him to shut up so their lives are not entangled more than knowing penny.so that all they are are nobodies to each other, so it doesn’t mean anything anymore, can never hurt. simon looks into baz’ eyes and baz can see an infinity of possibilities spreading out around them, interweaving like threads of fate, enclosing them in a silent bubble till baz is clawing,screaming, choking to breathe. he never signed up for beautiful boys with bruised knuckles and the sun in their eyes when he came to the island. never asked the world for a second chance, let alone a first. he doesn’t want to be the secret keeper. the one trusted with a past jagged and bloody. he can’t be trusted, the implications are too strong. how is simon spilling a part of his history to a stranger? a grimm-pitch rich kid who could very well ruin his life if given the chance, at roughly 3am on white sand. 

it is too late,moment of hesitation passed and simon carries on. (he always finds a way to carry on, too resilient, too strong for his own good.) 

“long story short, i thought and she thought i was desperately in love with her, then i decided i was not, or realised more i guess?” he scratches his chin. “she proceeded to get mad, said that she’d never cared for anyone like she had for me. i got even more mad and said that care does not equal love, and that loving someone and being in love are two separate things, that she thought she liked me but in reality, she liked the name, the attention, the conspiracy theories, the idea of something she could never understand. she only liked a figment of me.” baz grimaces and simon sighs running his fingertips over baz’ clenched fists. “i understand you’ve known her much longer that you have and possibly ever will know me but believe me when i say that’s the truth. it’s agatha wellbelove for fucks sake. we were together for 2 years off and on before we called it quits. i knew her and still know her like the back of my hand regardless of what she says.” he sighs,moves to get up and baz feels the strain of the strings of fate tying him in place. he holds simon’s hand, and simon freezes. 

“i believe you” baz says. “i’ll always believe you.” 

and that’s that.

they lay down and watch the sun rise. simon falls asleep on baz’ chest with the beanie still firmly placed on his head.

simon snow salisbury, simon snow salisbury, simon snow salisbury is jotted all over baz’ diary the next morning and mordelia’s incessant questioning and teasing is truly the least of his worries.


End file.
